Married to Hope
by Dean Gabriel
Summary: The day Claire was involved in 'that accident' was a memory burnt clear in Hershel's mind; every detail, every breath drawn, every painstaking moment. AU
1. Chapter 1

Hershel had been settling down into his new office when he heard of it. He had become deeply absorbed in a puzzle book by accident when he was shelving his books, and after solving it with immense satisfaction, realised the level of noise in the corridor had reached an unusual (though not unnatural considering the nature of young men and women) height, and thus went out to investigate, delicately adjusting his hat as he did so (he was still getting used to the height of it, but if Claire liked it...).

Though at this time of day the university corridors were naturally busy, right then, it was a hive of activity. Groups of students were walking around briskly, talking in hurried tones and lone students were bouncing off the walls and running around to talk to anybody who would listen. The atmosphere was tense, excited, and eerily sombre.

'Is something going on?' Hershel asked one of the lone students bouncing on the balls of his feet restlessly.

'Oh... hey... the new archaeology professor, right?' the boy asked, and Hershel nodded, if a little bashfully. 'It's just some excitement for the physics kids. There was going to be some new experiment on time travel something or other at some place... what was it called...'

At the mention of _experiment on time travel_, Hershel's heart dropped as suspicion and fear clouded his mind. 'The Institute of Polydimensional Research...?' he said breathlessly, hoping against hope for a shake of the head and a _No, I don't think that was it_, but today wasn't really his day, seeing as the boy immediately snapped his fingers.

'Yep, that's it! So you heard about it? Well it didn't go too well. Blew up the whole place –'

'_What_?'

'Yeah, shocker. I'd hate to be the scientists in there.'

Hershel didn't hear any more. Without pausing for so much as a _Thank you for your time_, he ran off, clutching the brim of his hat. Tears were already springing into his eyes as every dark suspicion clouded his mind. _For God's sake, Claire, please be alright_. Their time together had been far too short – weren't they going to dinner later tonight to celebrate his new job? Those plans wouldn't be cancelled, they wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't...

He stopped short when he arrived at what had been a lab, and several other buildings, including an apartment. He didn't notice that his lungs were gasping for air and that he was weak-kneed from having run so fast and so far. He only knew that he was in a daze from shock and _Oh God if anything's happened to you Claire, I'll never forgive myself._

'No!'

He heard the young voice from a distance, yet the child couldn't be a foot away from him. A weight pushed against him and he looked down, his vision unfocused, to see what was probably a boy of about ten screaming and trying to run to one of the burning buildings, tears streaking down his face.

'M-my parents...! I have to save them!'

The boy's despair jerked Hershel out of his shock, and he grabbed the boy's shoulders before he could go any farther. 'No! It's too dangerous!'

'My parents are in there! I've got to go back!'

'There's nothing to be done,' Hershel reprimanded to the best of his ability. 'Jump back in there, and you'll die too!'

'No!' the boy shrieked again, barrelling against Hershel's body and beginning to sob into his shirt. Hershel held on to him as best as he could, but he understood the boy's feelings completely. If he could, he, too, would have jumped into the lab to find Claire, but such a mission would be futile, and she wouldn't want him to put himself in danger, dead or n-

No. No, Claire hadn't died yet. She was badly injured, perhaps, but she hadn't died, surely not. It was a moment before he realised there were tears falling from his face as well, and he wiped them away hastily. Fear coursed through his body, but he remained calm for the boy sobbing in his arms.

After a moment of helpless gazing at the scene, a small change came over it. Hershel forced himself to focus when he saw a man appear, walking as fast as possible while still holding something or somebody delicately in his arms. Hershel stared for a while before he realised what he was seeing. He bade the boy to stay where he was. Almost immediately, an elderly woman appeared from the crowd and began to talk to him. The boy would be alright. Hershel looked up again, and his heart really was hanging on by a thread when he saw that the man was indeed holding Claire, and he ran up to them, numb with horror.

'I-is she... a-al-alright...?' he stammered, unable to even begin to fathom that the worst might have happened.

'She still has a pulse,' the man answered grimly. He was wearing a lab coat like Claire's, and Hershel gathered he was a colleague. 'But it's very weak. We have to get her to a hospital and fast. You wouldn't happen to be a doctor?' he added hopefully, looking up him.

At that moment, Hershel would have given anything to be able to say _Yes I am, I might be able to help her_, but his expertise was, unfortunately, the dead and not the living. He shook his head. 'No, I'm – I'm Hershel Layton, Claire's-'

'Oh.' The scientist looked surprised for a moment before shaking it off. 'Alright. Come with me, I have a car that can bring us to a hospital as soon as possible.'

Hershel raised his arms to take Claire himself and the other man hesitated before allowing him to do so. He then ran off, and Hershel followed at a slower pace, gripping Claire's body tightly. He kept his eyes focused on the man running in front of him instead of on Claire's face – he didn't want to see the whole extent of injury that had been done to her.

They rounded a corner and the pale man climbed into a car parked there. Hershel followed, taking off his hat, careful with Claire's body. As soon as he shut the door behind him, the man was off at full speed, talking all the while as if he felt he owed Hershel an explanation. 'My name is Dimitri Allen,' he began. 'I'm one of the lab scientists, but I swear I wasn't in favour of this experiment – at least, not at this stage. I had discovered a huge flaw in the contraption, but I never imagined my partner would go along with the experiment anyway.'

'I quite understand,' Hershel replied quietly, not because he did but because it sounded like the right thing to say.

They were then silent for a while, and though he was not sorry for the loss of conversation, Hershel wished there was more noise, if only so that he didn't have to hear Claire's shallow breathing. Every moment stretched out the fear that it would suddenly stop and he would be left with nothing else to hold on to.

'The fire's caused some traffic accidents so the ambulances haven't been able to come yet,' Dimitri started again. 'This is a bit illegal,' he muttered in a lower voice, suddenly turning a corner and driving in the opposite direction of a one-way street, 'but the ends justifies the means.'

Hershel didn't see it this way but didn't protest. Claire would scold him later for ungentlemanly behaviour, but he also couldn't help thinking that would be better than for her to never hear about it at all.

When they finally arrived at the hospital several eternities later, Dimitri took charge. He appeared well acquainted with the hospital staff, and it was clear from his furrowed brow and white face that he was just as concerned about Claire as Hershel was, so he trusted him to carry things out properly. Hershel felt ill and dizzy when they took Claire away for treatment – holding her had given him the sense that he was doing something, but now he simply felt useless. He sat down in the waiting room, hands pressed to his eyes, trying to calm himself.

'Coffee?' Dimitri appeared in front of him, holding out a cup.

'No, thank you,' Hershel answered hoarsely, looking up at the other man to be polite.

He gave a brave attempt at a smile. 'I'm joking, I know it's tea,' he said, handing Hershel a cup with the blessed beverage. 'Claire, too, only takes tea, never coffee unless she has to work later than usual. Of course, that hasn't happened lately. Not since...'

This made Hershel feel a little guilty, even though he knew that if it was anybody's fault, it was Claire's. He said somewhat awkwardly, 'I apologise if my presence has become a block in your research.'

'No, no.' Dimitri waved it away. 'Claire is happy. That should be enough as far as I – that is, we – are concerned.'

A pause hung in the air before Hershel could pose the actual question. 'She... will she be alright?'

'I hope so,' said Dimitri solemnly. 'She's badly injured and has a concussion, but it could have been worse. Claire's strong; I'm sure she'll pull through. There's nothing else you and I can do right now other than pray.'

Hershel nodded, and, ungentlemanly as it was, let out a sigh. The waiting was almost physically painful. He tried to do a puzzle in his head to take his mind off things, but slumped in his seat three minutes later when he failed spectacularly. The room was warm, but goosebumps rose over his arms in his fear. After a moment, he recalled that Dean Delmona had wanted to meet him at this time, but Hershel simply couldn't bear to leave Claire without first hearing news of her condition, and he wanted to be the first person she would see when she would awaken. He didn't try to consider the possibility that she might not wake up, ever. _That_ was unfathomable.

Eventually, he stood up and began to pace around the room.

For how long he walked from the seats to the window, to the magazine rack and back to the seats, he wasn't sure. At one point, Dimitri got up too and moved to the corner of the room, occasionally trying to read a magazine. Hershel didn't know how long he paced before a nurse came inside and said, 'You can see her now, sirs.'

Dimitri almost bolted out of the room. Hershel merely stared at the nurse for a few seconds before understanding what she had said and following Dimitri. He realised now that the long wait had numbed him – he felt fear and apprehension flow anew through his entire body, and fought the urge to throw up. The nurse hadn't said anything, but surely she would have if it was anything to worry about? Unless, of course, the sight of Dimitri dashing at her had frightened all other words out of her mouth.

'In here,' the nurse opened the door for them. Here, Dimitri hesitated, so Hershel pressed past him and went inside.

Claire was in a private room for the peace and quiet she needed. Her head was wrapped in bandages, which seemed to serve no purpose other than to highlight the scratches across her face. Her shattered glasses were on the table beside the pocket watch Hershel had given her. His eyes were drawn to the latter. It didn't have a dent or scratch on it. He walked slowly to her side, sank onto a chair by the bed and covered the hand that lay limp on the bed sheet with his own.

'Claire...' a voice murmured softly. Hershel looked up to see Dimitri on her other side, looking down at Claire with an almost frightened expression on his face.

'She's weak, and her condition could go either way right now,' the nurse said. 'We'll know tomorrow morning. Are you two her closest family?'

There was a short, awkward pause as Hershel and Dimitri glanced at each other. 'I'm her colleague...' the latter began slowly. 'And he's her...' he waved a hand at Hershel, trailing off.

'She has her mother, though,' said Hershel, recalling a conversation he had had once with Claire. _I'll bring you to meet the old witch with me someday_ she had said. _She lives in the country. When do you think we'll be free?_ They still had time for that. Their plans didn't need to be rearranged, not that he was here now to watch over her. 'I don't know if she's heard; she lives in the country. I'll try to get in contact with her tomorrow.'

The nurse nodded. 'Will you stay the night, Mr...?'

'Layton. And yes.' He did not like the thought of leaving Claire in the least. 'I will.'

'Alright.' The nurse turned to Dimitri. 'Visiting hours end at six.' She then left, shutting the door after her.

Dimitri pulled up a chair on Claire's other side and simply watched her in silence. Hershel redirected his attention to her as well and noticed with unease how dark her collarbone was.

'Was it that bad?' he said aloud.

'She was practically buried underneath the rubble.' Dimitri choked on the words, and Hershel fell silent again.

The two might have sat there an hour, unmoving. At one point, Hershel could have sworn he felt Claire's fingers twitch in his grip. He was continuously biting his lip as tears threatened to engulf him. He could still hear her words from the morning in his head: _Oh, look at the time. I didn't realise how late it was! I have to go to the lab. We're running a very important experiment today. Let's continue this celebration over dinner tonight. Oh, and promise me you'll wear the hat. It's not your usual style, but keep an open mind. After all... isn't that what a gentleman does?_ Her eyes had softened then, looking at him affectionately. The love in her gaze had filled him with something warmer than tea, and he remembered then that he never wanted to let that go. He never would.

A sigh sounded, followed by a scraping of chair legs, making Hershel look up. 'I must go,' said Dimitri. The words sounded forced, as if leaving Claire's side was the last thing he wanted to do. 'If she wakes up, give her my well-wishes. I'll be back tomorrow.' He glanced back at Claire momentarily before hastening from the room.

Hershel lingered for a while longer before he realised he had missed his lunch. He gently released Claire's hand, then padded out in search of a canteen or something of the sort, hurrying, as if afraid Claire's condition would worsen without his supervision. He was back very quickly, but of course, nothing had changed about Claire's state, whether for the better or for the worse. He looked down at her for a moment, his entire body feeling numb with anxiety.

He brushed a hand against her face, from her jaw to her bandaged cheek. Perhaps some people would have been concerned by the marks her injuries would leave on her, but not Hershel. Claire would always be Claire to him, sweet and beautiful.

Without taking his gaze off her, he sat down again. It wasn't a very comfortable chair, but he pulled it closer to the bed, taking Claire's hand again. Perhaps hours passed, or maybe it was minutes, but he eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up, he was rather confused. The lights were far too bright for sleeping and he was curled up on a chair – a hard, uncomfortable one at that. He was also cold, although his hand was oddly warm.

Then everything came flooding back to him, and he opened his eyes.

'Oh, Hershel, you're awake.'

He whipped around to look at Claire, cricking his neck in the process. Unconsciously rubbing his neck, he blurted out, 'Claire! You're awake!'

Claire was indeed sitting up in bed, smiling at him. The smile pulled at the scratch on her cheek, extending it a little, but it was still _Claire's_ smile. He realised then why his hand was warm – when she had woken up, she had taken his hand. He couldn't do anything past staring for one still moment before he flung his arms around her, holding her tightly.

'Cl-Claire –' he gasped in stunned shock, relief unable to come to him. 'I – I'm so – g-glad –'

'Hershel...' She returned the embrace, hugging him as tightly as he held her. 'Come on now, I'm fine you see,' she said gently. 'Don't worry any more. We'll be alright.'

Still he clung on to her, afraid that she would prove to be an illusion if he released her. She didn't move at all, but let him press her to his body, exchanging warmth. No words came to him. His eyes were shut tightly, trying to digest that she was _still here, not going anywhere_. Eventually, his shallow, distressed breathing slowed and he slowly released her and sat back down, but he continued clutching her hands.

'Hershel, please.' Claire's smile softened at the almost panicked look on his face. 'I'm not going anywhere, you know.'

'Yes,' he answered. 'I know.' But still he looked at her as if she were an apparition that would disappear the moment he blinked.

'I'm not leaving you. I can't leave you before I get to know everything about you. I'll be right here as long as you need me.' She edged closer, before leaning forward and kissing his cheek.

And he believed her.


	2. Chapter 2

After Claire had woken up from the sleep her experiment on time travel had put her in, the doctor had been every optimistic about proclaiming her stable after checking and re-checking every other detail and wound. He appeared impressed, called it a miracle, and Claire remarked in an off-handed manner how it would have never happened if Hershel hadn't been there to fret about her, causing the aforementioned man to colour. Hershel trusted the doctor's judgment, however, although he still kept a very cautious eye on Claire. She could try to hide her injuries all she liked, but he was observant enough to see her wince every time she raised her left arm too high.

'They won't last, Hershel,' she said on her third day in the hospital as she and a nurse were applying fresh bandages. 'I'll be my cute old self soon.'

'I'm not worried about the scars that will linger,' he answered, glancing at the highly visible bruises on her collar. 'I'm just worried about the pain it gives you.'

'I feel perfectly fine,' she said cheerfully. 'You really don't have to worry.'

Before Hershel could reply, the nurse shooed him out the door so that she could continue bandaging Claire in peace. He didn't mind and once outside in the hospital corridor, he took out a small box from his coat pocket and opened it.

Inside sat a simple but elegant ring. Several days before he had been bestowed with the title of 'Professor', he had struggled to bring up the subject of marriage with Claire when he took her out to dinner. This had not worked very well. He hadn't even gotten as far as actually mentioning it before his nerve failed him. Afterwards, he had gone out and bought a ring in the hopes that its physical presence would make the task seem more pressing, but it hadn't been working very well so far.

'Hadn't been' as in it was lately looking even more urgent than ever. One of his biggest fears when he saw Claire's body rendered limp and near lifeless only three days ago (had it only been three days ago? He felt as if it had been three _years_) was that Claire would die without ever knowing how much she truly meant to him. In his gentlemanly way, he did his best to remind her that she had a very special place in his heart, but if she became his fiancée, their relationship would be elevated to a different level.

It was difficult to explain why it was so hard. He could imagine a hundred different reasons for her to say no, but he couldn't _see_ her using any of them. He would very much like to spend the rest of his eternity with her, but no matter how he tried to tell himself he had seen nothing that might imply reluctance in Claire's feelings, he simply didn't have the nerve to open his mouth and say it.

He sighed and put away the box just as the door opened and the nurse stepped out. She gave him the usual reminder to make sure Claire didn't exert herself before leaving, and he re-entered the room.

Claire was sitting on her knees on her bed, looking out the window. Hershel couldn't see her expression, but he guessed it was wistful. She had been wanting to go out ever since she had woken up, but the doctor was stern on this point. Winter was settling in, and Claire was far too delicate for it.

'Claire?' he said, shutting the door behind him. 'Are you alright?'

She turned around and smiled at him before settling back on her bed. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and said 'Oh I'm fine. I just miss the outdoors.' As he had expected, there was a hint of longing in her voice despite the smile she was giving him. 'And I want ice cream.'

He walked over to her and kissed the top of her head affectionately. He then sat down saying 'I'll bring you some tomorrow if the doctor allows it.'

She pulled a face. 'I don't want it tomorrow. I want it now!'

The outburst gave him some confusion as he could understand in the least why sweets would be so important, but was perfectly ready to go out for some if it was that terribly urgent; and besides, it was probably what a true gentleman would do. Seeing the look on his face, however, Claire sighed and said 'Never mind, Hershel. I'll wait for tomorrow.'

'Alright,' he said, throwing her an anxious glance, worried he was taking the hint wrongly.

They lapsed into silence, Claire gazing into space forlornly, Hershel fidgeting, the latter's mind on the ring in his pocket. After a moment of contemplation, several glances at Claire, accompanied by attempts to speak, he finally took a deep breath, sternly told himself to be sensible and began to say 'Claire...'

Claire snapped to attention and looked around at him. He struggled to look straight into her dark, warm eyes, and once he did, found himself gaining courage from them. 'Yes?' she said.

'You know... on the day of the... accident...' Claire nodded to show she understood, and he continued. 'That morning, you mentioned going out to dinner with me that night to celebrate my new job.'

'Oh I haven't forgotten,' she said promptly. 'We'll make up for it later, alright?'

'I don't mind we missed out,' he answered, adjusting his hat slightly. 'What I mean to say is... well... later... you – you got into the –'

'Mmhmm.'

'A-and while I was waiting for you to – I mean, even before, because I heard about it from one of the university students, and when he told me it involved your lab, I was immediately worried – and later, when I saw you with – when I saw Dimitri – I – I –' His voice and courage were beginning to falter. He dropped his gaze, choosing to look at his hands instead. 'I felt – if –' He couldn't possibly stop _now_, he _had_ to tell her and even if she_did_ say no, it wouldn't be the end of the world; she would simply still be unready for commitment – and he certainly couldn't blame her – and _why_was this happening to him_now_ it had been so easy for Claire to confess to him, and she hadn't been sure of an inkling of his true feelings except that he thought of her as a very good sort of person –

His hands were suddenly clasped in Claire's paler ones, and she looked up at him concernedly. 'Hershel? Are you alright?'

'Claire –' Perhaps it was the physical contact, but his mind was suddenly wiped blank. All he knew was_ If I don't tell her now, she'll never understand_. He blurted out 'Claire, will you marry me?'

A silence fell onto the room. It occurred to him that he hadn't given her the ring. Colouring deeply, he withdrew his hands and began to fumble around to take it out. 'I'm so sorry, that was –' Claire's silence was beginning to scare him a little. He was finally able to extract the box and opened it, presenting it to her. He kept his eyes fixed on the ring.

'Hershel.'

'Y-yes...?'

'Hershel, look at me.' He reluctantly met her gaze and was alarmed to see tears in her eyes. 'Will you put it on for me, please?' she said sweetly.

He nodded, feeling almost envious of her steady tone of voice. Despite the time he'd had it, Hershel had never actually taken the ring out of its box before. He did so now with a hand he imagined to be trembling, and reached out for Claire's hand. He slid the ring onto her finger carefully as if afraid of breaking either Claire or the ring.

'It's beautiful,' Claire breathed, taking her hand from him to admire the thin band that now adorned her hand, blinking back her tears.

He only watched her for a moment before saying hesitantly 'So you... you agree...?'

She looked up at him, the tears beginning to spill. 'Agree – why wouldn't I agree, Hershel?'

'I don't know,' he said in a small voice.

She flung her arms around him, burying her face in his shirt. He hugged her back tightly, hardly even noticing that she was making the front of his shirt very wet. 'Yes, Hershel,' she cried, clutching him. 'Yes, of course I'll marry you – oh thank you so much Hershel, I love you, I don't know what I'd do without you, you're so much more than I deserve – oh Hershel, I –'

Relief and joy were coursing through Hershel so fast, he could have staggered underneath its weight. 'Thank you,' he sighed, taking her face into his hands and kissing her tenderly. When he pulled away, he wiped away her tears and said 'I'm sorry I sounded like such a fool.'

'Nonsense,' she hiccoughed. 'I couldn't ask for any better.

Neither could he.


End file.
